


Hold Me

by stefanie_bean



Category: Lost
Genre: Complete, F/M, Fluff and Angst, One Shot, Rare Pairings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-26
Updated: 2012-10-26
Packaged: 2017-11-17 01:33:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/546155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stefanie_bean/pseuds/stefanie_bean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danielle Rousseau might have terrorized and tortured Sayid, but she gives Hurley the battery he's looking for, and a little something extra besides.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Me

**Author's Note:**

> Set during "Numbers," 1x18

**Hold Me**

Hurley stood in the jungle clearing, staring at the small, bedraggled woman who only a moment ago had pointed an automatic rifle straight at his face. So this was “the crazy French chick,” Danielle Rousseau. The one who had overpowered a war vet like Sayid, held him captive, tortured him. 

Sayid had said that the French woman had batteries, ones which Sayid might be able to use to try to escape the Island. Sayid's encounter with Danielle hadn't gone so well, leading Hurley to try his own luck. Now, he wasn't so sure. Maybe following that weird silver cable which led into the Dark Territory hadn't been such a great idea after all. 

Amazingly, Danielle had heard of the Numbers, that mysterious string of digits which Hurley had used to play the lottery, and which had brought him so much wealth, and so much sorrow. Hurley wanted answers, was desperate for them, but answers weren't worth a few extra holes in your head.

She didn't look like a jungle ninja warrior anymore, now that she wasn't threatening to shoot him. Even though her face had taken on an almost compassionate expression, Hurley still shook with leftover terror. 

Danielle, it turned out, didn't know any more about the Numbers than he did. What she did offer was reassurance. The Numbers had brought her to the Island, just like him. The Numbers were cursed, and so was he. It was such a welcome relief, to hear her say it. It explained so much.

"No one would believe me," Hurley said, throwing himself on Danielle in an impromptu hug. She jumped back a little in surprise, then yielded to the soft, overwhelming heat of his embrace.

Somewhere behind the jungle stillness a rustling started, faint as breath, shimmering with a sharp edge of fear. Then the sound faded into the jungle a little, as if deciding whether or not to go away.

Danielle's rifle made a scratchy thump as it hit the ground. A broken-leaf smell filled the air. Danielle's voice had been soft even as she recited the horrible things which had happened to her and her team on the Island. Now she whispered something in a low voice, as in his arms she stood perfectly still. 

Then her own arms crept up around him and she trembled too, even more than him. When she pillowed her face into his breast, the hovering presence in the treetop canopy retreated, and the leaves once more fell silent.

The hug went on for a very long time.

She collapsed a little in his arms. Muffled by his flesh, she murmured words in a language which he couldn't understand. Why couldn't she speak Spanish? Then at least he would know what she said. He felt sorry for her, and reached up to stroke her long, coarse hair.

She ran her hand all the way down the long full curve of his side, and his knees went weak. When she half-collapsed in his grip, they sank down together onto the soft fern-carpeted forest floor. 

Into his lap she crawled, and now he could make out what she said. " _Tenez-moi, tenez-moi,_ " over and over, although it made no sense.

Her hair smelt a little fishy, and he ran it through his fingers. It wasn't coarse to the touch at all, and he thought of the different creams he'd used to tame his own wild mane. Fish oil, that's what it was. She used fish oil on her hair. Then she stopped her little chant and rested quietly in his arms.

After awhile, she stroked his cheek gently. " _Tellement tendresse ..._ ”

"Lady, I can't understand you."

She pulled him a little closer, her mouth right over his. "That's all right. Do you understand me now?"

Dizzy with heat, he fell into the kiss, as blood rushed from his face to everywhere else. At first he was afraid to open his mouth, because once a girl had squealed, “Ewww, gross,” when he'd slipped her some tongue. 

This was a woman, though, not a girl. When Danielle slid her own warm tongue in between his lips, he opened up to her in return. She tasted a little smoky, a little fishy like her hair, but good, and he let her play softly around his mouth as he rocked her gently in his arms.

Then she broke off with a gentle motion, giving his lower lip a tiny bite, as if savoring it for the next time. She smiled, and a playful light twinkled in her eyes. " _Salé._ ”

"Lady, don't do that to me.”

"Don't do what?"

"Keep making that Frog talk." He also wanted to ask if she was going to knock him out and drag him back to her pad like she did Sayid, but that wasn't cool, it was kind of junior-high school, in fact. 

When she gently squirmed out of his arms, he waited quietly to see what she would do next. 

She slid out of his embrace but didn't leave, still sitting very close to him on the soft ground. "So, did you come out here just to talk about the curse of the Numbers?”

"Nah. See, my friends, Sayid, Jack, they have this crazy idea that they're gonna build this big-ass raft." 

She spoke slowly, as if she'd never considered this before. "A raft. Why?"

"Well, uh, why else? To get off this island." 

She didn't say anything, just rubbed her hand in slow, circular motions on his thigh.

"Hey, like I said, it sounded kind of crazy."

"They'll never let you leave this island."

"Who won't let us?"

"The Others won't let you leave. Don't you think I've tried?" Danielle sat a little stiff now, apart from him. 

"The raft wasn't my idea.” He hoped it didn't sound like an excuse. Now that he had to ask her for something, suddenly he didn't want to. 

The sun had moved a little, leaving them in almost full shade. While he had really liked her weight on his lap and her face up against his chest, having her hand on his leg wasn't bad at all. It was really fine, in fact, and he feared that if he just demanded something, she would go away.

Even so, he still had to do it. “Sayid, um, he said you had batteries. So I thought that maybe—”

"You'll need some way to navigate on your raft, yes," she remarked, her hand still on his thigh. 

"So, Sayid was thinking—" He didn't want to directly come out and ask.

Danielle leaned forward to kiss him again, only this time there was no rush of desire. Everything moved very slowly: the final soft pull of her tongue, the way she smiled a bit when their mouths parted. Little threads of silver glimmered in her hair. 

Then she rose. “Wait here.” She picked up her rifle, and slipped off into the jungle.

He waited a long time, but she didn't return. Afternoon heat fell over him like a blanket, and he slipped heavily into sleep.

* * * * * * * *

When Hurley opened his eyes, Danielle was still gone. It was a laborious process to get to his feet, and as he stretched out his leg, he kicked something heavy and hard.

The small rectangular block was like a car battery, only smaller. Atop it lay a single long-stemmed blossom, a spray of little red flowers in a line. He picked it up and slid it into his cargo pocket, then hoisted the battery, surprisingly heavy for its size.

He felt Danielle's absence like a vacuum. Suddenly he had a strong urge to leave, for without her presence the jungle sat at bay no more, but threatened to rush upon him at any moment.

He pushed back the way he came, moving quickly for a man of his size, confused by the late-afternoon slant of shadows through the trees. Luckily, he heard voices up ahead.

"Hurley?” Jack called out. “Is that you?”

Jack, Charlie, and Sayid gathered round him, astonished at what Hurley carried. Amid the swirl of questions and comments, he said calmly, "Hey, it's just a battery."

Sayid gave him a glance that could pierce body armor. "Just a battery? Anything else you want to tell us?" 

Hurley smiled. He didn't have to spill everything, did he? "Danielle says, 'Hey.'"

* * * * * * * * 

Later, back at the castaway's settlement on the beach, Hurley lumbered up to where Shannon was sunning herself. He tried not to look at her long bronze length stretched out on the sand, or the two perfect hills of her buttocks. The round indentations right above the curves looked just like the finger-marks he'd made in cookie dough as a small boy, before his mother slapped his hand away.

Shannon didn't bother to look up at him. "What is it, Hurley?"

"You're supposed to know that, uh, Frog-speak, right?"

She sighed impatiently and scratched her perfect arm. The sun glinted on the small gold hairs of her lower back. "Oh, God, I am so sick of this. What now?"

He couldn't remember all of what Danielle had said, but one thing stuck with him. "It's just something I heard, from a CD," he fumbled. "'Ten-ay-moi.' What's it mean?"

"You mean, _tenez-moi_?" Her diction was as perfect as her skin. Obviously she'd heard the phrase before.

"Yeah." Hurley hated this scrutiny, and desperately fought the urge to leave. He didn't even try to repeat the words.

"It means, 'Hold me.'" 

"Thanks.” He walked off, not seeing her rolled-up eyes or the slight disgusted shake of her head as she rearranged herself once more on the sand.

Hurley followed the curve of the beach, back the way he'd come earlier that day. He sweated furiously as he walked, trying to swallow down the perennial embarrassment as his belly flesh shook. He stroked his soaked shirt on the spot where Danielle's face had rested.

He finally came to the cable where it rose out of the water, its silver length disappearing into the foliage above the beach. There was no point in following that glittering lure into the jungle. It didn't lead to Danielle any longer. She was gone, somewhere else. He sat where the shore met the sea and touched the useless metal tenderly, as if it were her hand on his face, as if it were not cold and unyielding. 

" _Tenez-moi,_ " he whispered softly to himself. " _Tenez-moi._ " 

( _the end_ )


End file.
